


before you go

by Tat_Tat



Series: Steven Universe Fic in 2017 + 2018 [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chaptered, Complete, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fisting, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Human AU, Minor Character Death, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-02-28 12:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13271019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat
Summary: Rose dies while giving birth and grief stricken, Pearl runs away from it all and finds solace in Jasper, a woman she meets on the street.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my foray into angst. This fic is nine chapters in all and will focus on the grief. The only character death is Rose. 
> 
> It will be NSFW in later chapters and those chapters will be tagged appropriately.

The rain came in fickle bursts, steady and light, then hard and torrential. The wind gusted but Pearl was running so fast she barely felt it push her forward.

Her clothes were wet, sticking to skin, and her hair clung also to her cheeks and the nape of her neck.She felt strangely dirty under the cool autumn shower. Strangely, she didn’t care.

Gold leaves, pliable under her footsteps, gathered in the gutters, and water pooled around her ankles. Splash. Splash. Everything around her was cold and wet. She sniffed sharply, her nose running as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Rose…” she whispered. For a moment her steps stalled. Staring downward, she was met with her murky reflection. The puddle was slightly illuminated by street lights and blurred away as a car drove sharply by and splashed her.

It reminded her of the tide crashing down on her, a spray of salt, sand beneath her feet. For a fleeting moment she was warm, for a fleeting moment it was 2008 and Rose was spinning in a white frilly one-piece.

Before Steven– or Nora– before Greg.

Before the hospital room.

Pearl clenched her sides, aching.

“Rose…” she had called for her since she’d known her. She had murmured that precious name into a field of curls, had yelped it in surprise when Rose had sneaked up on her from behind, and she had whispered it longingly, watching her go.

And she had screamed it when the doctors ushered her and Greg from the delivery room and wheeled Rose into another room for emergency surgery.

Greg had been reluctant too, but had been the one to pull Pearl along with him.

“Don’t touch me!” she had shrieked nastily. He had accepted the remark quietly, his concern for Rose deeper than the offense.

Their friends surrounded them in the waiting room. Greg didn’t want to worry anyone and said nothing, but Pearl’s shaking gave away that something was wrong.

“I hope she’s okay,” Greg said finally when Garnet placed a hand on his shoulder.

Garnet was intuitive, her mother a famous psychic. She shuffled in place then, expecting Pearl or Greg to ask her about Rose’s future, but neither did. Pearl supposed that Greg was just as afraid as she was to ask.

There was something in the air after Rose was separated from them. There was knowing, without Garnet’s help.

X

Above her, a bank’s clock, shining red. The time was two thirty. It didn’t feel that late at all– or that that many hours had escaped her.

Everything was moving too fast.

Time, life was moving on without Rose.

That didn’t feel right.

Pearl stopped. She pivoted, considering. Maybe Rose was there waiting for her. Maybe the doctor had made a mistake pronouncing her death. Maybe. Maybe…

Something caught in Pearl’s throat. She wanted to believe that Rose, that someone, something was there waiting for her. But just as soon as she considered going back, she changed her mind, unable to bear the thought of walking into an empty room.

And she did not want to deal with Greg, Garnet, and Amethyst’s emotions. She could barely suffer her own.

She could still feel Rose’s warmth under her fingertips, Rose’s lips on her brow, skirting the scar on her forehead. She could still hear her voice, their conversation that morning as Pearl made her breakfast, before her water broke.

It had been real, hadn’t it? How could someone be there– and not?

She shoved her freezing hands into her pockets and without thinking, compelled by want, by hope closed her right hand around her phone.

Her thumb found Rose’s number on speed dial and for a moment she was suspended in anticipation, until the call went straight to voicemail:

“Hey! This is Rose–” Her recorded voice was cut off in fitful giggles. “Leave a message after the–” And then a beep.

Pearl’s throat was dry, and then, raising the phone to her ear, whispered softly, “Rose, it’s Pearl. I…" She hesitated, suddenly feeling foolish. “I need to talk to you. I’m… I need to hear you.”

She stopped there, letting the phone drop to her side as she stared blankly into the distance, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It stung to cry now. She had been doing it all night.

“Hey lady!”

She turned to the voice, and then stepped back. The color returned to her face. Two men approached her, their hands suspiciously jammed into their pants pockets.

“What’re you doing up this late?” The one in the beanie grinned, his comrade wiggled his eyebrows.

Pearl saw a corner store still lit up from the corner of her eye, keeping it in mind as she started to walk. The phone (still glowing bright) was clenched tightly in her hand.

“Aww don’t be like that. Come back!”

“She’s a little old, don’t you think?” one said, in a whisper.

“She still looks alright.”

“Eh, just alright.”

“Take what you can get.”

Their steps grew heavier, faster, sloshing through puddles behind her. Pearl stepped lightly, quickly. She veered towards the corner store and then was caught by the wrist.

She flexed her hand– heard something drop behind her– and then pulled the man forward to meet the points of her fingers. He coughed as the strike connected with his neck and keeled forward. His friend, not dissuaded by the display, rushed after Pearl, all fists, and she evaded him effortlessly, sending him stumbling. Nearly hitting the concrete, he righted himself and ran after her again, but tripped over his friend who was still on the ground, coughing up phlegm.

And that was when the third emerged from the shadows, when Pearl was becoming overconfident, beginning to feel safe. His arms snaked around her and he started to pull her back into the dark, away from the promising haven of the corner store’s lights.

Pearl dug her heels into the wet gravel and twisted, but he held her tight. There was no room for finesse after that. She moved without thinking, clawing and aiming without a shade of pity. It was brutish, what she’d done, ignoring her training and allowing herself to be animalistic, skin and blood stuck under her fingernails. The one who had jumped her ran away, clutching his face, his piercings and pride ruined. His accomplices stayed on the ground, clutching their sides and calling her a bitch from a yard away.

From behind, another voice came, deep but feminine. Pearl spun around to block another attack, but dropped her guard as the woman in front of her raised her hands up in submission.

“It’s cool. I’m here to help. Or I was…” She drifted off, watching the two men struggling on the ground. “But looks like you got it.”

“Thanks,” Pearl said quickly, unsure what else to say. Her head was spinning, blood pumping. She was warm and alive. She felt good. She was feeling something.

And it had stopped raining.

“You don’t look good,” the woman commented. There were shopping bags on her arms and her long, blonde-white hair was in wet tangles.

“I’m fine,” Pearl said dully.

“You live nearby?”

Pearl looked sidelong.

“You have no idea where you’re at,” the other woman said with realization and then decisively, “Come to my place.”

“With a stranger?”

“Name’s Jasper. And you?”

“. . .Pearl,” she replied cautiously.

Catching the air of hesitance in her voice, Jasper said, “Come on. If I wanted to do something to you, I’d have just watched those guys beat on you.”

“Didn’t you?”

“I was about to help– but you were winning.” She laughed, deep and brassy. “Honestly I was afraid to get in the way.”

Rummaging through one of the shopping bags, she handed Pearl a drink, and when Pearl didn’t take it she helped it into her hands and popped the top off. “We’re kind of in the shitty part of town, unless you want another parking lot brawl. My place isn’t too far. You can take a shower and go.”

“All right.” Pearl took a sip, barely registering the taste of the drink Jasper had given her. It was missing an alcoholic bite to it and was cold in her hands. The adrenaline was slowly leaving her and she was cold again. The heated seats in Jasper’s car couldn’t warm her enough, and although she wasn’t okay with it, she had accepted it.

This was how it would be now, she told herself , choosing not to fight it. There was a sort of romanticism in her grief, as if it were a testament to how much she had loved– still loved– Rose, and to feel less of it would be a disgrace, as if she didn’t love Rose enough.

Stubbornly, Pearl held onto the lack of feeling and engraved it into her being.

Rose wouldn’t have understood and would have pried her out of it. Maybe that was what she was waiting for: for Rose to pull her from the depths.

X

Jasper gave her a towel and as promised let her use the shower. Before she had slipped into the shower, Pearl met her reflection, a ghastly version of herself with red on her fingertips and a purple bruise on her cheek, pale everywhere else. She’d always been pale and could never tan, but before it had been a healthy, snow-white glow. Rose had only passed hours ago and Pearl was already a ghost of herself. That was well, she thought. They would both be ghosts.

The steam rose around her, the shower on the hottest setting. She had told herself she accepted numbness but hadn’t completely committed to it. Some part of her still wanted to feel, but only the most visceral of sensations.

Within fifteen minutes the hot water was used up, and the cold crept in again, forcing Pearl out of the shower. Jasper knocked on the door to check on her and Pearl murmured something that satisfied the other woman enough to walk back to whatever she’d been up to.

Pearl found that Jasper had been making food, and while Jasper heartily ate her meal of beer and pancakes, Pearl just picked at hers.

Jasper looked over her drink, watching Pearl. “So what happened?” And when Pearl didn’t answer, she began to guess, “You get kicked out of your place? Got dumped?”

Pearl shook her head to both, tapping her fork on the plate. The pancake Jasper had prepared for her was in tatters, mostly uneaten.

“Look at it this way,” Jasper offered. “I’m virtually a stranger and you probably won’t see me again. So who cares what I think about it.”

She sighed as Pearl quietly took a bit of pancake. Pearl wasn’t hungry but having her mouth full excused her from speaking.

Jasper got up to put her dishes away and to pull two beers from the fridge. As she offered one of them to Pearl, she guessed her expression, saying, “I know it’s not rich enough for your tastes.”

“How would you know?” Pearl said, half-heartedly snippy, taking the can from her.

“Your clothes.”

Pearl looked down at herself, forgetting she had changed into one of Jasper’s T-shirts. It was so big on her it looked like a sack dress.

As Jasper opened her mouth again to speak, Pearl said quickly, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’ll have to eventually.”

“Too soon.”

“Obviously.” Jasper shrugged. “But you seem like the type that, if I don’t get you to talk now, you never will.”

“And that bothers you?”

“I want to help.”

Pearl chuckled, wiping a dribble of beer from her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t need saving. You saw me back there. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s always the people who can take care of themselves that need the most help. That need someone to listen to them.”

“Says who?” Pearl paused. “Did someone tell you that?” Jasper was at least twenty years her junior. It was strange, to be taken in by someone younger than her. When was the last time someone had done this for her? She was always the oldest in her group of friends and in her relationships. And in the last years of her mother’s life, Pearl had been the one who had taken care of her.

“I know, because I’ve been there.”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Pease. You’re too young to know what it’s like.”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“A baby.”

Jasper moodily sipped her beer. “And you’re…?”

“Sixty in a few weeks.”

“Happy early birthday.”

“Why thank you,” Pearl said primly, and then her face fell, thinking, it would be her first birthday without Rose since they’d met.

Finally, Jasper broke the silence. “Did someone die?”

No tact at all, Pearl thought scowling. Even Amethyst had better manners.

“I’m sorry,” Jasper said. “I just wondered because that’s the only thing I could think of– and I’ve lost someone too. We can talk about it.”

“I just want to go to bed,” Pearl brusquely cut in. “That’s all right, isn’t it? And then I’ll leave.”

Jasper shrugged, taking the empty beer cans from the table. “Whatever.”

Jasper pulled blankets and pillows from storage, and after fluffing them up draped them over the couch. Assuming that was her place to sleep, Pearl approached the makeshift bed, but Jasper shook her head and pointed towards the bedroom, glowing soft blue from the nightlight.

“Guests sleep on the bed,” she said.

I guess she does have some manners, Pearl said to herself as she climbed into Jasper’s bed, shivering. The blankets were thin, reminding Pearl of Rose, who overheated easily. Even with warm blankets, Pearl suspected she wouldn’t sleep tonight. What time was it? Maybe four, since it was still dark.

Pearl reached for her phone instinctively, then remembered she had taken her pants off to shower. She slipped out of the bed and crouched on all fours in the dark to search for her pants. For the first few minutes all she found were Jasper’s clothes (and god knew what else, she shuddered, thinking she’d have to wash her hands later). She found her pants lying next to the laundry basket (which was, she noticed, empty).

She found her shirt too, blood speckling the peter pan collar, but could not find her phone. She turned her pants pockets inside out again and quietly searched the rest of Jasper’s floor and dirty laundry until she realized she must have dropped it in the parking lot.

She had given up calling Rose’s number, but she had wanted to look at their text messages, the pictures they had taken together…

You can get a new phone later, she told herself, and download the old pictures, but as she returned to bed, she knew she had decided something:

She would not go back, not when there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and likes, especially on the decision to write Pearl older. There’s not enough representation of older folks, which gives the implication that once you reach a certain age your story and your struggles stop there, that everything is figured out.

Pearl didn’t sleep. She waited until it was light out enough that it was perfectly acceptable to get up and do the dishes.

Jasper stirred on the couch when she turned on the faucet. Pearl wasn’t careful, freely clinking dishes and glasses as she worked. It would have been the polite thing to let Jasper sleep, being her guest, but it was deplorable to see someone sleep in past nine.

And Jasper had said they were strangers who would never see each other again, anyway.

Jasper groaned, rolled over, and then finally fell off the couch with a hard thud. Pearl turned from the dishes to see Jasper still groaning, now scratching her belly. Her hand reached higher up and once Pearl realized the other woman was scratching her boob, she quickly turned back to the pile of dishes.

Pearl wondered if Amethyst had a long-lost sister. If she did it was definitely Jasper.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Pearl said, playing along with Jasper’s train of thought. “I like doing it anyway.”

“You really are old.”

“Age has nothing to do with it,” Pearl huffed, placing a plate on the drying rack.

Jasper ignored her, stretching upwards with a loud yawn. “I’m going to shower. I’m glad you woke me because I have to go to work soon. Don’t worry about locking the door behind you when you leave.”

Pearl nodded although she wasn’t sure where she was going to go, only that she wasn’t going to go back home.

She contemplated this as Jasper showered. There was enough money in her bank account for her to buy plane tickets. She could go to Barcelona, visit the ruins and museums with nothing but the clothes on her back and her sadness. Or she could go up north and hole up in a cabin in the woods. She used to think about these places with Rose in mind, going with her. Without Rose as part of the picture, her interest fell, and she was still doing dishes when Jasper came out of the shower wearing a T-shirt and gym shorts, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was tidier than when Pearl had first met her, pulled into a ponytail, but still wild, trailing down to her waist.

She didn’t say anything when she saw Pearl, only wearing an expression of mild surprise.

“Do you mind if I stay a little longer?”

“Take as long as you need.” Jasper reached over the counter for the bread, taking the whole loaf in its plastic packaging. “I gotta go. It was nice meeting you.”

“Thank you.”

“And hey. Sorry I was pushy last night. Whatever you’re going through, I hope it works out for you.”

“Goodbye, Jasper.”

“Later.”

The door clicked behind her, leaving Pearl alone in the kitchen.

X

Pearl combed Jasper’s room and the rest of her apartment before fully accepting her phone was lost for good, and that it would be broken anyway if it had been left in the rain overnight. As she searched the apartment, she tidied up, picking all the dirty laundry off the floor into the laundry hamper, dusting, vacuuming crumbs off the floor, off the couch, and cleaning out the fridge. Still unhappy with the dirty clothes stewing in the laundry basket, Pearl helped herself to the ashtray-turned-change-dish, hoping there was a laundry area somewhere in the apartment complex.

She was right to check the basement first. Jasper’s laundry (and the shirt and pants Pearl wore last night) tumbled in the wash as she made the bed and mopped the tiled floors in the bathroom and the kitchen.

Pearl kept telling herself she would leave after finishing her current task, but soon found another. Jasper’s place was that messy, or perhaps she didn’t want to admit she had nowhere else to go, except maybe home.

Jasper’s apartment was empty, but that was okay. It was supposed to be that way. Rose had never walked up the steps, arms full of groceries to the door, or laughed behind its walls. Pearl could hear voices from down below and not imagine it was Rose drawing near. There was no hope, no expectation, no chance for disappointment.

There were no pictures, no reminders of the life she had had with Rose.

In the one bedroom closet, there were jersey shirts and t-shirts and tank tops, not a white dress in sight.

The life Jasper led was completely different than the one Pearl had shared with Rose. Pearl found herself lingering. Her latest excuse was that she was tired from cleaning, the lack of sleep the night before contributing.

She lay sprawled on the couch, the covers Jasper had used previously folded under Pearl’s head like a pillow. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The smell of lemons, meringues, and roses were clouded over with Jasper’s musky, autumnal scent. Pearl thought about Rose and curled up in herself, then breathed again, and instead of thinking about sand between her toes and Rose’s hand in hers, images of dried leaves and apple cider and pale ale surfaced.

She woke from her light doze at the sound of the door slowly opening and closing. Jasper’s steps stalled. She didn’t say anything until Pearl stirred.

Pearl thought the other woman would say something about her presence, about the stack of clean laundry folded on the coffee table and the cleanliness, but Jasper only set her bag aside and began to make them dinner.

“Breakfast for dinner again?” Pearl asked, smelling eggs.

“I’m making omelets. What do you want on yours?”

“Surprise me.”

Jasper laughed.

“What?”

“You don’t seem like the type who likes to be surprised,” Jasper said, placing her own omelet over a bed of rice.

“I must seem so predictable to you,” Pearl huffed.

“No. You did surprise me.”

Pearl didn’t ask her to elaborate. Her skin prickled, sensing that Jasper hadn’t expected her to stay.

However, Jasper didn’t appear bothered, taking a seat next to her, and placing their omelets on the coffee table beside the folded laundry. She turned on the TV.

They ate in silence watching the roller derby game. Pearl wanted to comment on how crass the sport was, but remained quiet, afraid that would incite another conversation.

Eventually, Jasper fell asleep watching the game, only waking when Pearl got up to put the dishes away.

Pearl jolted, her arm caught.

Jasper looked up at her groggily, trying to form words. Pearl shook her head and slowly Jasper relented, falling back asleep.

Pearl left the dishes to soak in the sink, and before turning into bed she unfolded the covers, draping them over Jasper.

Pearl slept restlessly. She dreamed about being on the trapeze, her sisters failing to catch her, hurtling downward.

X

When she woke, it was barely sunrise and Jasper had already left. The folded laundry had been put away, and when Pearl opened the fridge, looking for a chore she found a sandwich made for her with a note perched on top:

Pearl, I’ll be home early. You don’t need to clean anything.

-J

Pearl only took two bites of the sandwich before putting it aside. It was only meat and two slices of wheat bread. Pearl wondered if Jasper knew what a vegetable was and considered going on a shopping trip to bring some to Jasper’s apartment and introduce her to the phenomenon.

But Pearl wondered how she would get back inside, uncomfortable with leaving the apartment unlocked.

As she was considering this, the lock turned and Jasper stepped into the apartment, clothes and hair clinging to her sweaty body, her duffel bag propped over her shoulder.

Pearl smiled wanly, embarrassed that she was still here and only thinking about groceries.

“You get my sandwich?”

“And your note.”

Jasper surveyed the room. “You don’t listen, do you?”

“I haven’t cleaned yet. And you’re early.”

“Just a morning jog,” Jasper said, settling the duffel bag into a chair and kicking off her shoes.

“No work?”

“No work.”

“What do you think about grocery shopping?”

There was a look of surprise on Jasper’s face, quickly hidden with a laid back response, “Sure.”

Pearl steepled her fingers. “Excellent.” She slipped into the bedroom to dress. The clothes she had been wearing when she first met Jasper were clean, the blood stain on the collar of her shirt mostly gone, easily mistaken as paint or makeup. She was unhappy with that but there was nothing else she could do about it.

She folded the clothes she had slept in and set them on the pillow for later tonight, then ran her fingers through her short hair, feeling slightly presentable. She avoided the mirror, sure that her pallor and her demeanor was terrible

Jasper was waiting for her at the door, hand on the knob. Pearl slipped her wallet into her pocket (the other pocket, where she used to keep her phone, felt empty) .

She ran a shopping list through her head as they descended the stairs. Only when they got in the car did she consider recipes and Jasper’s tastes. She asked Jasper what she liked to eat but Jasper only listed breakfast foods.

“Honestly.” Pearl smirked. “Is that all you know how to make?”

“It’s all I need to know how to make.”

Pearl leaned back in the passenger’s seat, stretching. “I’ll be making dinner tonight.”

There was a stretch of silence between roads, and then Jasper asked, clearing her throat, “How long are you planning to stay?”

Pearl slowly sat up, blinking, the subject finally broached. “Am I a burden?”

“No,” Jasper softly reassured. “Just curious.”

“I can leave tonight– after I make dinner.”

“It’s not that. Just. If you disappear, I don’t want to worry. You’ll give me some notice?”

“So much for being strangers,” Pearl said.

“Are you planning to go to the funeral?” Jasper asked.

“I’m going to make a pesto penne pasta,” Pearl said, quickly changing the subject. “Have you ever had that? Maybe some prosciutto sprinkled on top… that would be nice.” She was, she realized, talking to herself, not really asking Jasper.

“You should go,” Jasper said as the traffic light changed from green to red. The car engine hummed and Pearl’s heart stilled, racking her brain for anything else to talk about.

She thought about her grocery list.

“A green garden salad,” she decided aloud.

Jasper let it go, pressing the gas pedal as Pearl rattled on about the meals she had planned.

The grocery trip went quietly, unceremoniously. They were two strangers shopping for groceries like old friends, or a couple. Jasper pushed the cart around and Pearl filled it to the brim with fresh food. She paid for it all and Jasper helped heft the heavier items back into the apartment.

As they were putting groceries away, Pearl pulled a tomato from one of the brown bags and presented it to Jasper. “Allow me to introduce you. Jasper, meet tomato.”

“I’ve seen a tomato before.”

Pearl arched a brow. “Really? I didn’t notice any fruits or vegetables in your fridge.”

“I usually do have them. My friend owns a farm– but it’s getting out of season, so…” Jasper took the tomato from Pearl, turning it over in her hands, testing its firmness. “Thing is, once you’ve had farm-fresh, it’s hard to eat what the general market carries.”

Pearl readily agreed and retrieved the tomato from her. After they finished putting all the groceries away, she shooed Jasper from the kitchen and started cooking.

X

“Pasta carbonara,” Pearl trilled, setting the steaming plate in front of Jasper.

“What happened to pesto penne?”

“One can change their mind,” Pearl said, taking a seat across from Jasper. Her portion was significantly smaller. While Jasper ate large spoonfuls, Pearl picked at her food. She twirled pasta noodles around her fork. She had assumed that if she had cooked this time, she would surely eat; there were vegetables and it was one of her favorite dishes. But she had no appetite.

Jasper swallowed. After Pearl helpfully handed her a napkin, she wiped her mouth.

“It’s good,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No. It’s–”

It didn’t taste the same. It tasted as if something was missing, but Pearl was sure she had remembered all the ingredients and she was always consistent, accurate…

She didn’t protest when Jasper took her plate from her and ate what was left.

“So this prosciutto stuff.” Jasper pointed at the crisp, caramelized bits of meat. “This is just bacon.”

“It’s an Italian dry-cured ham,” Pearl explained primly.

“Fancy bacon,” Jasper decided.

Pearl threw her a look and Jasper sniggered.

“Don’t be so serious, Pearl.” Jasper reached over the table and gently prodded the tip of her nose.

X

After lunch, Jasper planted herself in front of the television, giving Pearl reprieve from possible invasive questions while she poured over a calendar template she had printed for menu planning over the next two weeks.

She was about to start cleaning the dishes when Jasper beat her to it. (Although Pearl did manage to dry a few plates before Jasper drained the sink.)

“Don’t worry about the rest. We’ll let them air dry.” And before Pearl could reach for another plate, she asked, “Want to go for a walk?”

She was already handing Pearl a jacket to borrow before she could muster a confused, “Yes?”

The jacket was red, and like anything Jasper let her borrow, three sizes too big. For the second time that day, Jasper escorted Pearl out of the apartment. It was starting to get colder in the evenings now, and the air was moist. It smelled like it was going to fog overnight.

Everything around them was unfamiliar– she hadn’t noticed that this morning when Jasper had driven her to the store.

Many of the buildings were old, the windows barred, and they passed several small businesses. Mostly Pearl noticed that she was being watched by the people on the street.

Of course she didn’t recognize this place. Jasper had mentioned it the first time they had met: she was on the rough side of town.

“Are we safe?” she hissed to Jasper, moving a little closer to her, conscious of her wallet nestled in her pocket.

“It’s not bad as long as you’re not out after dark. Are you really scared?”

“No! It’s just…” Pearl couldn’t find the words, but Jasper found them for her, a brief look of secondhand embarrassment crossing her face as she rolled her eyes slightly.

“They’re gentrifying it, if that makes your privileged ass feel better.”

It was the first time Jasper had expressed annoyance towards her. Pearl’s cheeks reddened in shame. “That’s not what I mean…” she started lamely, and with another passing, disapproving glance from Jasper, the half-assed defense petered out and she apologized softly.

“Sorry.” She rubbed her arm.

Jasper didn’t respond, leaving Pearl to wonder if her apology had been accepted. They walked awkwardly through the park, dogs bursting past them off leash and children laughing and toddling around the playground.

It was, Pearl realized, a nice park, despite what her earlier reservations told her. She closed her eyes, taking in the fresh air.

“If we’re going to live together, we should get to know each other better.”

Pearl tensed, expecting Jasper to bring up Rose’s death and the funeral she was also avoiding.

“Ask me anything, Pearl.”

They found a bench under a willow tree.

“Anything?” Pearl asked hesitantly. Jasper nodded. She imagined that Jasper expected something in return for her openness. Pearl chose her questions carefully.

“Where do you work?”

“I’m a personal trainer at Balance Gym.”

“The one on Main?”

Jasper nodded. “It’s not that long of a drive once you’re used to it.”

“R– I mean– we used to go there all the time.” Pearl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We fenced mostly but I also liked to use the gymnasium to brush up.”

Jasper looked her up and down, smiling, imagining it. “I could see you as a gymnast.”

Pearl did not say more. Again, she had almost shared too much. “What sports do you like, Jasper?”

The sky darkened half an hour later and they got up from the bench, continuing their conversation. Pearl thought that with her care she had learned less about Jasper than Jasper had intended.

Pearl wondered how it had happened. How had Rose taken down her walls? She closed her eyes, thinking about that night. She had been feverish and Rose had been beautiful, making her temperature rise higher…

Rose had been pushy, like Jasper, but there was something about it that had been less intrusive. The influence of attraction, Pearl surmised. She had been in love with Rose the moment they met. Jasper was just an ordinary person who had found her at the right time, someone convenient.

Pearl wondered if she would ever love again.

And then she thought, did that even matter?


	3. Chapter 3

Jasper was working when Pearl woke at ten, thinking about how Amethyst would have teased her for sleeping in.

There was a sandwich for her in the fridge– with lettuce and tomato– and a leftover pancake. Pearl warmed up the pancake in the microwave while making eggs. After brunch she surveyed the apartment and was disheartened that she had cleaned it so thoroughly there was nothing else to tidy.

Usually, Amethyst or Rose made a mess for Pearl to clean later. It felt strange to appreciate the work Amethyst gave her, and for the first time, Pearl missed her. She had been so caught up mourning Rose she forgot her friends…

…She forgot herself, too, she realized, looking in the mirror. Her skin was sallow and gray, and her eyebrows needed to be plucked. There was dirt under her fingernails and her hair was out of shape, beginning to grow out.

The eyebrows and nails, she could fix now. Later, she planned to get a haircut.

When she finished she found herself in the same rut, the apartment and herself impeccably clean.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had been bored. Rose would always find something fun to do, Amethyst kept the house from being too quiet, and Garnet had her wit and her humor to keep them laughing.

Pearl got up from the couch. She imagined them at their best, but if they were like her, dejected after the loss of Rose, she doubted they were themselves. The desire to go home cooled, and as a result, she found a new task to busy herself.

She organized Jasper’s things: first the closet, separating the casual clothes from the one nice pantsuit, and then sorting by color. She alphabetized the bookshelf, dusted some more, and then went through the closet that Jasper used for storage.

Boxes surrounded her in the living room as she sorted, making piles for knickknacks, old birthday cards, photos…

She stopped, seeing a flash of pink hair, and picked the picture up again.

Her breath caught, thinking, hoping, then exhaling…

The woman in the photograph was not Rose, but she had dyed her hair the same shade of pink and her smile was nearly the same, but aged with laugh lines. Her eyes were dark, heavily lashed, and she was wearing a white pantsuit with pink trim. At her side was Jasper, both arms wrapped tight around her leg, smiling with both front teeth missing. On the back was brief, beautiful cursive script: ‘Jasper, age 8.’

Pearl set the photo aside on the table, separate from the rest of the photographs. She began to read the old birthday cards, the colors faded with age, all containing the same cursive handwriting. Pearl read through them all, starting with Jasper’s first birthday, smirking at the sapine sweet nicknames the woman– Jasper’s mother– had given to her, years ago. She had called Jasper her ‘pumpkin,’ her ‘mallow bar,’ her ‘everything,’ and Pearl couldn’t help but hear the words in Rose’s voice.

Abruptly, the cards ended after Jasper’s ninth birthday. Quietly, she tucked the organized photos and cards into a shoebox, leaving the first picture she had discovered on the living room table. She fought the urge to pry more, going instead to the kitchen to prepare dinner, her questions simmering along with the vegetables.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Might update again in the middle of the week.


	4. Chapter 4

Pearl was cleaning the small mess she had made in the kitchen when Jasper arrived home from work.

They greeted each other in a lukewarm manner, some awkward trepidation still between them. Jasper was unsettled by Pearl’s defenses and Pearl felt guilty for prying through Jasper’s belongings after all her time deflecting Jasper’s attempts to know her better.

“I made dinner,” Pearl said conversationally. The plates of food had lost their steam but were still hot enough.

“Thank you,” Jasper said, taking a seat, dropping her bag beside her chair. Pearl shortly joined her and the silence lengthened, Pearl considering the photograph she had found.

Pearl occasionally caught Jasper’s gaze wandering away from her.

“Is something wrong?”

Jasper shook her head. There was still food on her plate and she was still chewing as she stood up from the table to saunter to the living room. It was so sudden, that Pearl’s gaze followed Jasper, puzzled.

Then Jasper reached towards the coffee table, a flash of pink catching under the light.

Pearl leapt up from her seat, wretchedly watching Jasper pick up the picture she had found and carelessly forgotten on the coffee table.

“Jasper, I–”

Jasper’s head was bowed towards the photo cradled in her her hands.

“I knew you’d find it eventually.”

“I’m sorry… I was just bored and the woman in the photo reminded me of–”

“Pearl!” Jasper interjected. Her voice had raised slightly, enough to frighten Pearl.. She gasped, her knuckles dusting her lips, shame touching her cheeks.

“I said it’s fine,” Jasper said again.

Pearl looked away. She wanted to believe Jasper, but Jasper’s tone still alarmed her.

“She looked like Rose,” Pearl started quietly, meticulously dismantling her guard. She could feel herself resisting, could feel herself shaking, her throat closing in on her half-formed words.

“Rose?” Jasper spoke her name, bringing the picture closer.

Pearl nodded, biting her knuckles.

“So her name was Rose.” She set the picture down and turned to Pearl. “You know, since we’ve met, I’ve been buying the paper, checking the… er… the obituaries,” she said finally.

Pearl couldn’t become more silent. Her knuckles were bleeding. She was biting down too hard. Jasper gently pulled her hand free from her mouth.

“I’m sorry. Everything I’m about to tell you is going to be hard.”

Pearl nodded. She knew. She let Jasper hold her hands.

“I think I saw her name in the obituaries the other day. The last name is ‘Qua…’ You know what, I’ll just go grab it real quick. You sit here.”

She guided Pearl onto the couch and went to retrieve her duffel bag near the kitchen table. She returned also with a paper towel to press against Pearl’s knuckles. The bites were small, the blood a tiny trickle. As Jasper tended to her hand, Pearl read the obituary from yesterday. She skimmed until she found Rose’s name, then braced herself.

She read it once, twice: a sweet little blurb about Rose that was less than five lines long. She wondered who had written it– Garnet or Greg– and wished she had written it herself.

Jasper had finished applying ointment to her hand when she finally set the newspaper down.

“It’s tomorrow…”

“I’ll take you.”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Pearl said. “All of my clothes are at home.”

“Then go pick them up.”

“I can’t.” I can’t, she thought, imagining the shame and emptiness of her home. And what if Greg or Amethyst found her sneaking about? What if Garnet caught her? What would she say then? Or at the funeral?

She did not want to go, but she wanted to.

It was the last opportunity to do something for Rose.

X

There was still time left in the evening to go out, so Jasper took Pearl shopping. The mall was sparse and the lighting made Pearl’s skin look paper thin and yellow. It didn’t help that she never did look good in black. Finally, she settled on a suit. The black dresses didn’t feel right; she was too thin, or she was too tall, or the fabric hung drably over her body like a sad curtain. At least in a suit she could be sad and distinguished, not one or the other.

The following morning, Pearl lingered in bed longer than she had the past few days. Although the newspaper clipping had formed cracks in the foundation of Pearl’s denial, she was still in disbelief that Rose was gone.

The funeral would change all that.

Rose would look like she was asleep, except for lacking the rise and fall of her chest. Pearl thought back to her mother’s funeral, how the people who had dressed the body had put too much makeup on her. She hadn’t even been a shadow, instead a caricature.

It was too late to consider doing it herself for Rose. Would she have been able to manage that? No. Pearl could see herself washing Rose’s hair with her favorite floral-scented shampoo and her own tears. She could see herself breaking down and giving up, Garnet retrieving her from the room but not from her misery.

Pearl wished that she could be strong enough to clean and dress Rose’s body, to have written her obituary, and to be a shoulder for Amethyst and Garnet to cry on. She wished she had never left the hospital that night.

She wished she was stronger.

“Rose, are you ashamed of me?” she asked and then slipped out of bed.

X

There was two hours left for the wake when they finally arrived at the funeral home, after being held back by traffic for over an hour and a half.

The halls were dimly lit, the carpet outdated, but clean and kept. Distantly, they heard an organ playing in one of the three viewing rooms. Near each room was a podium with a card featuring a photo of the deceased. Rose’s photo was absent from all three podiums. After daring to take a peek in all three rooms and recognizing no one, Pearl was certain they had come to the wrong place.

“Can I help you?” a man in a stiff, wool jacket asked. There was an enamel nametag pinned to his suit pocket.

Jasper presented the newspaper clipping with the obituary.

The man clucked his tongue and explained that the newspaper had typed in the wrong date for the wake, which was yesterday.

“Usually one hears about the deceased’s celebrations through word of mouth,” he finished, eyeing Pearl sympathetically. 

“Do you…?” The bouquet of flowers crinkled against Pearl’s chest as she hugged them close.

“Do I know where she was buried?” the man asked, completing her sentence.

He ushered them to follow him to the front desk. They kept the cemetery information on hand for the hearse driver. He was able to find it quickly, since the wake and funeral service had only been yesterday. He wrote it down on the back of a business card and handed it to Pearl.

X

The cemetery was five minutes drive from the funeral home. The hard part would be finding the grave. Jasper asked if there was a family plot and Pearl explained that no, there wasn’t; Rose had been put up for adoption after she was born, and she hadn’t been close with her adoptive family. Her family was the one she had created with Pearl and their friends.

It was a balmy August day and they were both sweating in their formal suits as they walked along row after row of graves, reading headstones, searching for Rose’s name. They happened on a section for children and Pearl paused there, searching for the name ‘Steven’ or ‘Nora,’ but found neither and moved on.

After they passed the soldier’s memorial a fresh mound of dirt came into view. Pearl’s pace slowed as she approached. She could feel herself faltering, and then she could feel Jasper’s hand on her shoulder, firm and supportive. She trudged on, clutching the flowers to her chest.

The dirt there was soft under their feet. The headstone crowning the horizontal mound of dirt had Rose’s name, along with her birthdate and death date. Captioned underneath were the words:

_To our fearless leader. You gave us everything. You made us who we are._

It was Bismuth’s work, Pearl realized, her gaze traveling to the carved lion resting atop the headstone. Her heart clenched, she wondered how Bismuth was doing. Had she heard that Pearl had run off like a coward?

Jasper gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll give you some alone time.”

Pearl wanted to say thank you but she couldn’t speak at all or turn away from the gravesite either. She heard Jasper’s steps, punctuated by dry leaves, as she walked away.

Pearl knelt down and placed the flowers carefully in the center, an addition to the flowers and ribbons that had already been offered to Rose.

“Rose, I’m…” She didn’t want it to be like this, a one-sided conversation. Where was Rose’s laughter interrupting her? Or her dreamy, idealistic words? Where was Rose to comfort her as she shook, crying freely and achingly?

Rose used to come behind her in moments like this and wrap her arms around Pearl’s slim waist.

“What’s wrong, Pearl?” she would ask if she were here now. Or she might say, “I thought you were brave.”

“Oh Rose.” Pearl hiccuped, wiping her tears as they kept coming. “I miss you so much. You must think I’m pathetic without you.”

And she thought about how if the roles were switched, how Rose would have handled it better than her, and she sorely wished it was her underneath the ground and not Rose. But then her eyes widened, realizing how selfish that was– to wish that pain on Rose so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

She picked herself off the ground, quickly saying goodbye. She took a second glance over her shoulder and ran in a brisk jog, looking for Jasper.

She needed someone to take her mind off things, her thoughts stumbling down a dark path. The leaves kicked up behind her as she ran, the sun bearing down on her back. She loosened the bow tie and collar of her shirt, sweltering in her suit.

Her jog hastened when she spotted Jasper, then slowed as she came nearer and saw that Jasper was on her knees in front of a headstone decorated in flowers. Pearl squinted her eyes to read the name and dates written on the grave marker, but Jasper’s backside blocked it from view. For a moment, Pearl watched Jasper. Jasper was quiet and composed compared to her, but Pearl reminded herself that her own grief was still new. Still, she envied Jasper’s elegance.

She gave Jasper some privacy and waited in the car. It occurred to her she could go back to Rose’s grave and try again to speak, but Pearl was tired of trying and ashamed of giving up too quickly.

It was hot in the car, hot in her suit, and Pearl fell asleep waiting for Jasper. When she opened her eyes they were in the apartment parking lot and Jasper was nudging her to wake up.

Jasper made lunch while Pearl dully watched the TV. There was another Ancient Aliens marathon on but she didn’t bother to change it. She was barely watching it anyway.

The French toast that Jasper set in front of her cooled, untouched, before Jasper helped herself to it. Pearl wondered where she had the appetite after kneeling in front of her mother’s grave.

Then Jasper turned the TV off and set the plates aside. She wet her lips. She looked like she wanted to say something. Pearl reached for Jasper’s hand, welcoming it, but kept her back to her. Whatever Jasper had to ask, Pearl could only bring herself to answer this way.

“How long were you together?”

Pearl paused. Usually she was good at dates and accuracy, but time with Rose had always been pleasant and went by too quickly to keep track of.

“Nine years at least. And you? Your mother passed when you were nine?”

“Yeah. It was really sudden.” Jasper explained that after her mother had dropped her off at the babysitter’s, she had been ambushed by someone who had killed her.

“They never figured out who did it.” Jasper’s grip tightened on Pearl’s hand and Pearl gently squeezed back in sympathy.

Pearl talked about her own mother, how stressful it was to take care of her, to see her bedridden. “With her, I was waiting for it to happen for so long that when it did, I was ready. Rose’s was so sudden. And she was so young, I never even considered that she would ever…”

“When you’re a kid,” Jasper said, “you never think your folks won’t be there. They’re invincible.” And then she lamented that she hadn’t been able to help her.

“I know I was just nine, but I still feel useless.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted you to get hurt,” Pearl said.

Jasper pouted, crossing her arms, looking nine again. “I probably could have scratched the shit out of that asshole though!”

Pearl chuckled. Something about Jasper’s stubbornness reminded her of Rose. The desire to make something right, Pearl thought quietly, reflexively squeezing Jasper’s hand again.

In response, Jasper’s thumb brushed her knuckles, sending a current through Pearl’s body that was achingly familiar. Jasper’s touch grew firmer, she moved closer, and Pearl felt something budding inside her. Like during the fight in the parking lot, her blood raced. She felt good. She felt something other than sadness, nothingness.

Jasper’s hands enveloped hers and her smell, like hot cider, enticed Pearl to scoot back and press her backside against Jasper’s chest The sensations were new, but as Jasper held her, they became familiar.

Pearl turned to face Jasper, her eyes still downcast, considering what she was about to do. Was this moving on too quickly? No. It was something else.

It was the burning desire to feel.

She gripped the front of Jasper’s shirt and pulled herself into her lap, kissing her hard. Jasper pulled back in surprise, but Pearl fiercely pulled her forward, whispering, begging.

“Pearl.” Jasper gasped, “This doesn’t feel right.”

Pearl could hear herself laughing because nothing felt right anymore to her now that Rose was gone. She moved to kiss her again, but this time Jasper stopped her completely, pushing her away.

They were both breathing hard. Jasper squaring her shoulders, Pearl slowly stiffening as the rush of endorphins left her, recognizing that she had overstepped both their boundaries.

Jasper was staring at her from the couch, confused by what had transpired. She looked like she had just come back from a jog: face flushed and panting.

“What the fuck was that?”

Pearl pulled her legs up to her chest. “I don’t know,” she lied.

Jasper’s brows furrowed, not believing her. “Exactly.”

She bent to pick up the dishes and walked away. The room was quiet and Pearl had the sense that Jasper did not want her help with the dishes. Burning with embarrassment, Pearl mumbled something about being exhausted and went to bed.

But the sky had yet to darken.

X

“Pearl, are you asleep?”

Jasper’s voice, rough as always, was tentative. Pearl kept her head buried under the covers, peeking carefully so she could see Jasper standing in the doorway without being seen. Pearl remained very still, waiting for Jasper to leave, but hearing the floorboards creak under her feet in the opposite direction, she called out Jasper’s name without thinking.

Jasper crossed her arms. “You weren’t asleep at all.”

Pearl drew the covers closer to her face. “Do you need something?”

Jasper hesitated, rubbing her arm and showing sudden interest in the carpet. ‘She’s oddly self-conscious’, Pearl thought, curiosity thickening.

“Nothing.” Jasper said finally. “Just checking up on you.”

Yet she remained at the door as if to ask something else.

Pearl lowered the blankets, lowered her guard, and before she could ask what was on Jasper’s mind, Jasper seated herself on the edge of the bed, staring at Pearl.

Under the intensity of Jasper’s stare, Pearl suddenly craved the shelter of the covers.

“Did you really mean that back there?”

“Why are you asking that now?!” she squawked.

Jasper shrugged, noncommittal, and then, “You know how I said you reminded me of myself?”

Pearl nodded stiffly.

“That’s not the only reason why I offered to help you.”

“Then why did you push me away earlier?” Pearl challenged, the pieces clicking quickly into place.

Here, Jasper stalled. Pearl pressed and laid her hand over hers, feeling advantageous.

Jasper stared at their hands connecting, turning red from the neck up. “Don’t you need time?” she asked, flecks of guilt in her voice. Still, she returned the gesture, turning her hand palm up so it could fit perfectly in Pearl’s.

“I have nothing but time,” Pearl said, and closed the gap between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up next Thursday!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NSFW chapter that contains fisting and angst.

Deep down, Pearl knew that if Rose could see her now, she wouldn’t be mad. She would understand, even support her. Rose always asked Pearl about the dates Pearl went on while Rose was away. Pearl only ever dated when Rose was out of town.

Even knowing that it was okay, Pearl still would feel a twinge of guilt when kissing another woman. Rose said it was because Pearl was old-fashioned, and while Pearl agreed, there was more to it than that.

She was always thinking about Rose, thinking of her, and as Jasper ran her hands up the front of Pearl’s shirt and kissed her, Pearl compared the two women, imagining that Rose was kissing her instead. She didn’t feel a shred of guilt in that. Jasper had admitted herself that her intentions hadn’t been completely selfless.

And Jasper didn’t need to know what Pearl was thinking.

Sometimes, Pearl wasn’t thinking at all, allowing her mind to go blank as the sensations took hold of her.

When it was her turn to lay her mouth on Jasper’s cunt, she drowned herself in the act of giving. It was natural, easy. She followed Jasper’s vocal cues and made her spend under her tongue. She didn’t stop until Jasper moved to divert her into her lap.

The slick from Jasper’s cunt and her own saliva clung to her chin, but did not deter either from kissing. Pearl wrapped her legs around Jasper’s waist, hissing, gripping the nape of her neck as Jasper filled her with her fingers.

She buried herself in Jasper’s hair, soft and straight and wild. Her shampoo smelled like sweet oranges and cinnamon, her sweat earthy and primal, like charcoal lit under a blaze. She was the complete opposite of what Pearl was used to. She was rough, grabby, and bared her teeth to Pearl’s neck.

It made Pearl feel like she had let herself go to a pack of wolves, to be devoured until she was nothing.

And for a moment, coming around Jasper’s fist, she was.

And then she was painfully herself again, the orgasm and its delightful endorphins fading out of her system as quickly as they had come. Hit with the reality of it, tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she curled up in Jasper’s arms.

X

Jasper held her the whole night. Even when she fell asleep, she held her. Pearl lay awake.

Pearl was staring at the ceiling, the clock, then Jasper. She wasn’t regretting it, only thinking that after this, Rose wouldn’t be back to ask her how her date went while she was away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot that this is a short chapter and may update again Sunday or Monday.


	6. Chapter 6

They fell into a routine and Pearl wasn’t sure if she liked that. The sense of stability helped but she hated that life moved on without Rose.

That she had moved on without Rose.

Sometimes she resented her grief and would toss it away and welcome Jasper into her arms. Other times, she clung to it like a cross, a dark shroud of hope.

The hours where neither grief or normalcy mattered were the good ones: the hours where simply existing without Rose didn’t feel wrong; the hours where she could clean and clean with the radio droning on in the distance.

Jasper had stopped sleeping on the couch, joining Pearl in the bed. Pearl stole all the covers and Jasper didn’t mind except when Pearl clung to her for body heat.

“Too hot!” Jasper would groan, rolling away.

Pearl had asked Jasper how she coped with her mother’s death, hoping to glean some advice. Jasper admitted she had never fully finished grieving, that it had left a scar as deep as the one on her nose.

Pearl held her, listening, just like when Jasper had listened to her talk about Rose.

She listened when Jasper told her that the aunt who had taken her in was cold, not a maternal bone in her body.

“She’d have resented me if she hadn’t found some use for me.” Jasper said and Pearl felt for her.

“Do you talk to her?”

“Sometimes. She only calls me when she wants something though.”

“When she wants something? What sort of things?”

Jasper went quiet after that. Pearl changed the subject and told Jasper how she had met Rose.

“You grew up in a circus?” Jasper laughed just imagining it.

“I was a trapeze artist– with my sisters. You must have seen pictures of us. We were quite something.”

“Not really,” Jasper said. “I never went to the circus. No one ever took me.”

Pearl continued. “Well, one night I had come down with a fever. I almost couldn’t see what I was doing and my hands were so sweaty I had trouble gripping the bars.”

Reading the look Jasper gave her, Pearl said that the show had to go on. “If I hadn’t gone on stage that night, I wouldn’t have met her. After the show she came up to me and asked if I was all right. I still wonder how she knew I was sick from that far away. And she came to the show again the next night– with a care package for my cold. She started coming regularly after that, first to all my shows, then after hours, and then to my practices. And then… I left with her. We were together after that.”

“How old were you?”

“My early fifties, if I remember right.”

“And she was your first girl?” Jasper asked incredulously.

Pearl lowered her eyes. “I grew up in a different time, Jasper. One just didn’t… act on their feelings.”

“But you did with her.”

“That was different,” Pearl said as Jasper watched her, awaiting an explanation. “What about you? Who was your first?”

Jasper looked away, grimacing like something foul had entered the room. “Just some bitch in high school. Now she’s my friend’s problem, not that I’m happy about that. She basically runs their life and they’re too afraid to say a damn thing.”

“Your friend?”

“The one who has a farm that I get fresh produce from. She called the other day, said she has some pumpkins ready.” Jasper raised her brows, her eyes shining as she peered at Pearl. “Want to go with me to the farmers market tomorrow?”

Pearl agreed, seeing it as a change of pace.

X

The next afternoon after Jasper came home from work and showered, they drove into the city to Windrivers Park.

“I never knew we had this,” Pearl said, watching the bustling crowds in wonderment.

Jasper grinned, slamming the car door behind her and hefting an empty burlap sack over her shoulder as she clipped her ring of keys to her belt loop. Pearl went ahead of her, arms behind her back as she leaned forward, glancing inquisitively through each stall.

Everything smelled good: from the sun-soaked tomatoes to the homemade soaps made from goat milk, and the crowd was brisk and energetic, talking heartily and laughing loudly. It was contagious and Pearl felt herself smiling. She touched the corner of her mouth, then her hand slid away, sensing Jasper’s gaze.

Their eyes met and Pearl turned away. “Why are you staring?”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Pearl’s expression darkened and she walked briskly away, but called for Jasper over her shoulder. Jasper jogged after her, nonplussed.

“Which one is your friend’s stall?” Pearl shouted before realizing Jasper was right beside her.

“That one.” Jasper pointed, crossing ahead of her and then catching her hand. Pearl nearly fell over trying to keep up.

The crowds shuffled out of their way as they drew nearer, revealing a wooden stall wedged between a greengrocer and a woman selling fleece scarves and mittens.

There were neatly arranged boxes set up in rows filled with apples, tomatoes, corn, and squash. Enormous pumpkins were prominently scattered around the stall. Among it all there was a young woman close to Jasper’s age wearing just a sports bra under worn jean suspenders. She was sitting but sprang up, spotting Jasper. She waved wildly, as if vying for the attention that was already there.

“Hey! Hey! Hi, Jasper!”

“No Lapis?” Jasper asked hopefully.

“She’s at home asleep.” The blonde sighed. “I couldn’t wake her up.” Then Pearl caught her eye and the woman excused herself from Jasper, mistaking her for a seperate customer.

“We came together,” Jasper said, only pulling her attention away slightly.

The woman stared hard at Pearl through thick Coke-bottle glasses, her lips curling, cat-like and satisfied.

“Your girlfriend?”

Pearl’s eyes widened and Jasper tensed, shooting a look that said that she wanted to jump over the counter after the blonde.

Raising her hands up in submission, she gave a half hearted, petulant apology. Then she adjusted her glasses and offered her hand to Pearl, who hesitantly shook it.

“Peridot.”

“Nice to meet you, Peridot.” Pearl replied, unsure after the remark she made. 

Jasper elbowed her and Pearl remembered she had forgotten something. “I’m Pearl. I’m… an acquaintance of Jasper’s.”

“I’m sure,” Peridot said sarcastically and left it at that after another glare from Jasper.

Jasper asked Peridot how things were on the farm. Peridot said their bees had died again and she and Lapis were debating whether to try again next year. Then she carried on about fixing the goat pen after Lapis ran the tractor into it.

The one-sided conversation drifted over Pearl like white noise and she quietly took the burlap sack from Jasper to fill it with fruits and vegetables from Peridot’s stall.

Pearl hardly noticed the barking from below until a long wet tongue ran up her leg and a wagging tail beat against her.

“Pumpkin!” Peridot shouted.

Jasper scooped the orange pomeranian from the ground, away from Pearl.

“It’s okay,” Pearl reassured, glad that it wasn’t her face that the dog had licked.

“She really likes people,” Peridot explained, taking Pumpkin from Jasper and rubbing her head. Pumpkin wagged her tail, yipping contently. Jasper contributed a scratch or two and the conversation with Peridot continued. This time Pearl listened attentively, happy with what was in the burlap sack and sure of what she would make with it all.

They mostly talked about Peridot’s farm. Peridot urged Jasper to visit, to pick out a baby chick out of the eggs that had just hatched, as Jasper tried to explain that her apartment didn’t allow pets.

“But you have that log cabin, right?”

Jasper stopped.

“Ha!” Peridot crowed triumphantly.

“Shut up. I just forgot I have a cabin,” Jasper answered lamely.

Peridot knit her brows skeptically. “Who forgets they own a cabin?”

“I mostly remember it when the checks come in.”

“When are you going to let me and Lazuli rent it?”

“Over my dead body that bitch is going to set foot in my cabin,” Jasper bit out.

Peridot sighed and turned her attention to Pearl. “Did she tell you that she has a cabin?”

Pearl admitted that no, Jasper hadn’t.

“And you’ve been dating how long?” Peridot swung back around to meet Jasper’s unamused gaze.

Jasper didn’t answer that. In-between moments of glaring at Peridot she glanced at Pearl as if asking her to answer for her instead.

Pearl ignored both of them, bending down to pet Pumpkin, who had approached her again. After a few pets she stood up and said, “I think I have all the ingredients for tonight, Jasper.” She walked from the stall, leaving behind more money than was owed.

It took a while for Jasper to follow after her. Peridot had distracted her by squabbling over chickens, Pearl, and nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more chapters to go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some NSFW in this chapter. : )

“Do you want to go?” Jasper asked on the drive back from the market.

“Where?”

“The cabin.”

“Oh,” Pearl said, staring vacantly out the window, caressing the burlap sack in her lap.

“My work wants me to use up some vacation days,” Jasper went on. “I could just call them and we could leave tonight.”

A few minutes passed and Pearl said, “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Hmm. “ Pearl stretched and fingered the peter pan collar on her blouse, the only item of clothing she owned at Jasper’s, save for the suit she’d worn at Rose’s funeral. There were still a few specks of blood near the collar, there to stay. Pearl had tried to get the stain out so many times that the fabric was worn there.

“It’s been two months,” Pearl murmured.

“It doesn’t feel like October.” Jasper turned the AC. up. The trees were dark but still full of leaves. Pearl sympathized. She clung too.

“What would we do?”

And before Jasper could reply, another question, “What do you think we are, Jasper?”

Jasper slammed the brakes.

“That brat.” Jasper grit her teeth, thinking about Peridot. “Saying all that shit.”

“Jasper,” Pearl interrupted. “I don’t care where you take me. Just take me far away.” Her voice was soft, as distant as she desired to be. The smile Jasper had noticed at the farmer’s market had been fleeting, but Pearl had known it was temporary or an erring muscle twitch.

Jasper reached for her phone and called her work. Instead of the apartment, they went straight to the store to buy Pearl outdoorsy clothes: jeans, flannel shirts, boots, thick socks, and also other clothes for after the impromptu trip.

There was a definitive feeling in buying nice blouses and tapered pants, an expectation that she would be staying with Jasper permanently, graduating from her title as ‘guest.’

It was a silent answer to Peridot’s question, maybe. It was better than being completely alone.

Pearl bought everything Jasper suggested except the flannel shirts. She thought she’d leave that fashion choice to Jasper.

“Do we really have to fit a stereotype?”

“Your hair is short,” Jasper pointed out.

Pearl lightly touched the back of her head. Her hair had grown out enough that it covered the nape of her neck. She thought about going to the salon, fleetingly, but Jasper distracted her by helping her button a yellow and pink plaid shirt over the shirt she was already wearing.

“How does it feel?”

Pearl shot her a look, then relaxed, looking at her reflection in the glass outside the shop.

“Comfy,” she decided. It was like being wrapped up in a secure, warm blanket, and echoed the feeling of visibility she’d had after cutting her hair short for the first time.

X

They drove by the debilitated buildings near Jasper’s apartment and the park they liked to walk through. They passed through the city, past the hospital Pearl had run away from, and the suburb Pearl had lived in before she met Jasper.

Leaving the city miles and miles behind, the air turned clearer, cooler, smelling of pines. Pearl fell asleep in the car and Jasper drove through the night, only stopping for gas. She was still wide awake when Pearl woke, and after a small argument, they switched places.

Pearl contently drove the rest of the way, following Jasper’s instructions and the GPS set on the phone (“Just in case,” Jasper had said before closing her eyes).

Around the bend, the cabin came into view. Pearl parked, missing the firepit by a hair . Jasper woke shortly after. Dissatisfied with Pearl’s parking, she asked her to park under a canopy of trees just a few feet away.

The cabin was sparsely decorated considering Jasper’s tastes, Pearl thought. No knick-knacks. The rug near the hearth of the fire could hardly be called decoration, feeling just as practical as the dishes and towels.

Jasper said it was minimalist on purpose, to make it more appealing to the general public she rented it out to.

“And I don’t want people to take my stuff.”

That, Pearl thought, was the real reason.

The cabin smelled of cedar. As they trekked back and forth from the cabin, loading it up for their stay, the scent of rain and dirt wafted through. Pearl already felt at home and could see why Peridot had vehemently harassed Jasper to let her and Lapis borrow it for a weekend.

“I’ll get the rest of the stuff if you want to start on din–” Jasper stopped, knitting her brows and pressing her face against the window.

“Goddammit,” she groused. “I knew I forgot something.”

“What?” Pearl stood on tiptoe, looking over her shoulder.

Outside was a big black shape, poking its head through the remaining boxes of food in the trunk.

“I forgot the bear spray.”

“You’re not going to fight it, are you?” Pearl blurted out.

“Fuck no!”

Pearl was a little surprised and very relieved. Without thinking she mentioned that if Rose were here she would have tried to befriend the bear. Jasper dryly laughed as if she were about to make a joke, but decided not to say anything at all. She slowly locked the door and watched the bear through the window, wincing as it tore open a bag in the trunk.

Pearl crept away from the window, taking what food they had gathered before the bear appeared, and started to make brunch.

The bear was gone when she set a plate in front of Jasper and took a seat next to her at the window. There was a thin layer of frost on the tree branches, soon to melt away with the morning. Without speaking they ate their toast and eggs, watching the birds flit by and assessing the damage the bear had done. Aside from the can of tuna that had exploded in the car, everything else appeared fine. Pearl promised she knew a trick to wash out the smell.

Pearl left the dishes to soak in the sink and they spent the rest of the morning dozing in the arm chair near the fireplace. There were still ashes in the fireplace from the guests who had last visited and Pearl put that on her to-do list before sinking into Jasper’s arms.

X

The cabin trip upset the routine Pearl had created in Jasper’s apartment. There was no plan, no rules, and whenever Pearl tried to make a new routine, Jasper would spot it quickly and dismantle it.

She fondled Pearl when she’d try to do dishes right after a meal and distract her, or sometimes she would push her out of the way when Pearl was trying to make dinner, and make it herself. When Pearl started to clean, Jasper would pick her up off the ground and haul her outside for a hike (although, it was more like Jasper jogging and Pearl dangling under her arm, complaining than it was a hike). Jasper would only let her go once they were far enough away from the cabin that Pearl was resigned to join her.

The only routine Jasper allowed was lighting a fire in the hearth when it got dark and lounging on the floor with Pearl like two cats seeking heat. Sometimes they kissed deeply and touched. Mostly, Pearl read a book and Jasper read over her shoulder, stroking her back.

Somehow, Pearl settled into the lack of structure, following Jasper’s whims with ease and enthusiasm.

Jasper caught her off guard again and asked her one day. “What do you want to do?”

Pearl’s mouth was agape and then she slowly reflected the question and asked, “What do you want to do, Jasper?”

And Jasper passed it right back. “I dunno. What do YOU want to do?”

Pearl stalled, blushing.

“Don’t say ‘clean,’“ Jasper hinted, only half-joking.

“Ah, well. You do own this property, Jasper. You know what kind of activities we could do. Perhaps you can offer a suggestion?”

Jasper rolled her eyes. “Come on. You’re not being sneaky, pulling that. Tell me, what you would do if… she… was here.”

Strangely, Pearl’s heart didn’t sink at the mention of Rose. In this place, with her memories of her, Pearl could only think about the fishing trip that went awry, but stopping off the side of the road later to make love in the bed of Pearl’s truck.

“We would have… ” Pearl trailed off, thinking.

Jasper cleared her throat and Pearl looked up, suddenly realizing her train of thought had continued on, but not her lips. She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear.

“I was just thinking, we would have done everything we hadn’t before. We would have done the things we always wanted to do, but were too afraid to do alone.” She stopped and thought a moment.

Then, “Have you ever climbed a mountain?”

“We would need training for that,” Jasper said. “And there isn’t one close by anyway.”

“Then… let’s–” Pearl stopped. “What about you? What if she were here, what would you do?”

“Who? Rose?”

“No,” Pearl said timidly, and then, more confidently, “Your mother.”

Jasper’s mouth hung open.

Pearl bowed her head, watching her fingers flex, grasp, and pinch, mirroring the battle within herself as she chanced to broach the subject. “You’re always asking me about Rose. You never– well you DID tell me about her back then once, but you haven’t since.”

There was a flicker of annoyance, but more than that, there was desperation in Jasper’s eyes as she lowered them, ashamed of her transparency. “Sometimes I think about it. I try not to though.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what she’d want to do. I was so young, I barely got to know her.”

“Have you ever gone fishing?” Pearl quickly asked. Watching Jasper deflate was painful and made her feel cruel for bringing it up.

Jasper didn’t have any fishing poles or bait and was too morose to go to the store to get any. Pearl offered to drive down but Jasper said she wanted her here with her.

They went to the lake anyway and sat on the pier. The ducks were there to keep them company. When the ducks left, Jasper’s hand wandered up Pearl’s shirt, surprising her.

“It’s just us,” Jasper said, mistaking Pearl’s unease.

Pearl thought about what she had said earlier, how inconsiderate she was. Did she really deserve Jasper’s hands delving up her shirt, unhooking her bra?

No, but– it felt nice.

Jasper removed her bra from underneath her shirt and snuck her head under to kiss her breast. Pearl gasped, restraint easily loosened by Jasper’s lips.

They left their clothes on the pier and slipped into the water, letting it cover them with darkness. Jasper treaded water, keeping a hand on the pier while Pearl swam around her and occasionally dove under to kiss the ‘pearl’ between Jasper’s folds. She sucked briefly, bubbles rising up as she laughed bemusedly at Jasper jerking her hips forward to meet her mouth.

She dove again to kiss the bottoms of her feet and trail kisses up her legs. She rose up to leave love bites on her neck and breasts and soon Jasper clutched onto the pier for more than support, shuddering in the palm of Pearl’s hand.

Jasper urged Pearl to rise from the water with her, so she could return the favor. Pearl did not oblige. She challenged Jasper to stay where she was and instead climbed onto Jasper’s shoulders, taking a seat in front of her face, slinging her legs over Jasper’s back. The position was precarious and Pearl fell twice before giving in to the knowledge that fucking on the pier, on solid ground, would be for the best if she wanted to come.

The afternoon was cool, the sun in sharp slivers over Pearl’s backside as she rode Jasper’s face.

She tried to come, but the bird songs and rustling in the grass distracted her. They took a final dip in the water to wash off and put on their clothes to trek back to the cabin.

There, they undressed again and continued where they left off. Jasper pressed her against the wall in the middle of their shower and Pearl clung to her, her moans bouncing off the walls of the cramped space.

X

There were only two days left of their cabin stay and they spent them content and quiet. Jasper chopped wood in the afternoons after lunch, and Pearl would sit outside with her, reading a book. Pearl asked why Jasper was bothering to chop wood with their vacation drawing to a close. Jasper said it was for the guests that had booked the cabin when they weren’t here.

“We could come back in the winter,” she said, landing her axe. One block of wood became two.

“I’d like that,” Pearl said from behind her book, hiding her glowing cheeks.

The rhythm of the axe was as steady as a clock, to the point that Pearl felt like she could tell the time by counting each swing. She was half-reading her book, losing her place often, catching herself admiring Jasper’s arms, the sweat on her brow, and her intense focus.

Jasper looked up and Pearl turned away. Jasper barked out a laugh, shaking her head. And then, she stopped and dropped the axe carefully aside.

“Hey.”

Pearl jumped and stuck her nose so far into the book she smelled ink.

“You like fighting, right?”

“Um…” Pearl wondered where she was going with this and Jasper recounted when she had found her in the parking lot, holding her own against three men, as if Pearl might have forgotten.

“There’s this underground fighting ring I go to sometimes. We should go.”

“And watch?” Pearl asked, her thoughts drawn to the Monday night wrestling program Amethyst was committed to watching.

“And fight,” Jasper said. Pearl’s face fell and she shook her head, ignoring the book completely as she crossed her arms.

“I know you think it’s beneath you.”

Pearl didn’t disagree.

“And ‘vulgar.’”

Pearl nodded in agreement.

“But I think you’d like it.”

Pearl laughed dryly. “Clearly, if you knew anything about me you’d know I would not like it.”

“C’mon, Pearl, I saw what you were like back there. And you’re not an amateur. You wouldn’t have learned how to fight if you didn’t like it just a little bit.”

“What I know is martial arts. Not your… wrestling.”

“Wrestling has just as much thought and technique behind it as martial arts!” Jasper countered.

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Please.”

“And it’s like a soap opera,” Jasper added, grin toothy.

Pearl’s cheeks pinked. “It was either ‘Gays of our Lives’ or ‘Ancient Aliens.’”

She stood up and tucked the book under her arm. She nearly made it to the cabin, resolve wavering, when Jasper stopped her again, playing the dirtiest card of all.

“You did ask me what I’d want to do if she were here.”


	8. Chapter 8

The smell of sweat, beer, and iron hung in the air. Pearl had to cover her nose walking through the crowds. Jasper kept close to her protectively and tried to hold her hand or her shoulder, but Pearl brushed her off. 

They sat in the very front row with the other fighters after Jasper paid the entrance fee. They were the plainest fighters, wearing only street clothes, while the others wore capes, masks, and sequins, and face paint.

Pearl crossed her arms, brooding as she watched the fights progress. Jasper offered her popcorn and she politely declined. A fighter in a red mask asked for a bite and Jasper glowered, her giving spirit limited to those she knew.

Pearl felt small in-between Jasper, the fighter dressed as Oscar Wilde, and the roaring crowd behind them. She was out of place, uncomfortable, and her ears were ringing. There were a few fights that piqued her interest but they they ended too soon to keep her focus. Most of the brawls were sloppy, adding to her confidence that she and Jasper would make this quick. 

The bell dinged and Pearl heard Jasper calling her name and reaching for her hand.

Pearl grimaced. It was difficult to show her annoyance, faced with Jasper’s smile. Jasper had helped her months ago-- was still helping her-- she could do this much for her. Loosening up, she took Jasper’s hand and allowed herself to be led to the stage.

Their opponents called themselves the ‘Bundt Bois.’ Their tan skin glowed golden brown under the stage lights and they were dressed in bright confetti colours, like icing on the cake with sprinkles and a “a little something extra” as one of them stated, winking at Jasper.

Pearl scowled, but only for show, legitimately impressed by the thought put into their opponents’ name and costumes. 

“And what are you ladies called?” the announcer asked.

“Just Jasper and Pearl.” Jasper said.

“Nothing a little...?” the announcer gestured upwards.

“I’m Jasper,” she said, unshaking in her conviction.

“And I’m Pearl!” Pearl said.

Perplexed, the announcer accepted their decision and introduced them to the crowd.

Jasper smirked beside her. “We have the best names.”

“We do.” Pearl chuckled into her palm.

The announcer went behind the rope, back to the safety of his box, while the referee lingered, keeping a close eye.

The bell dinged and Jasper went first, facing the shortest Bundt Boi. They wound around the stage like two feral cats, shoulders raised and arms outstretched, circling the ring until Jasper broke into a run. The Bundt Boi held their ground, but just as Jasper got close, they did a short roll out of the way and Jasper ran right into the ropes and bounced back, slightly disoriented. 

The short Bundt Boi tagged out and their taller counterpart came into the ring, cracking her knuckles. “Hey you!” she shouted at Jasper. 

Jasper spun around wildly, too aware of the jeering and chuckles and commentary about her falling into ‘such as easy trap’.

The tall Bundt Boi raised a hand in greeting. The gap in her tooth showed as she smiled cheekily. 

“Olé!” she said and acted as if she were holding a cloth like a bullfighter, further igniting Jasper’s annoyance.

“Don’t listen to her!” Pearl yelled, her voice drowned out by the crowd.

“She can’t hear you,” the short Bundt Boi said from beside her. Close up, Pearl could see there was glitter shimmering in the Boi's teased auburn hair. Her lips were full and there was a tattoo of a gemstone on her left bicep. The resemblance to Amethyst was uncanny, although Pearl had a feeling that the woman was taller than Amethyst.

“Name’s Carnelian,” she said offhandedly, eyes on the stage.

Before Pearl could answer, Carnelian cut her off. “Yeah, I know. You said you were Pearl, right?”

Pearl became tight-lipped. Feeling abrasive and wanting to avoid an awkward conversation, she reached out for Jasper and tagged herself in.

Seeing Pearl in Jasper’s stead, the tall Bundt Boi became serious. Being skinny as well, they did not underestimate Pearl’s slim build. Pearl could feel their eyes ghost over the muscles in her arms and her legs. She wasn’t athletic in the same way Jasper was. She had the body of a dancer, an acrobat. For show, Pearl did a backflip, something she would chide herself later for doing. But, in spite of not doing a backflip in over a year, she landed it perfectly.

Her opponent stood aback, awestruck and cautious.

Pearl waited for them to make a move. She would not charge in like Jasper. She would wait it out. 

Their dance around the stage was somewhat familiar, although Pearl recalled wearing a white robe and a black belt tied around her waist the last time she had done this. The clothes she was wearing presently in the ring were tighter, like her acrobat garb, but with less frills and tassels: less options for her opponent to grab.

“Yo, Skinny! We’re getting old here!” Carnelian complained from behind the ropes. ‘Skinny’ must have been rattled for being called out, because soon after she lunged at Pearl. Pearl braced herself, shifting her weight and taking a stance--

“Pearl!” 

A familiar voice cut through the air, somehow through all the noise, rattling Pearl and granting Skinny an opening. Skinny took her chance and threw Pearl into a headlock. Jasper was beside her, just outside the ring, gripping the ropes and urging Pearl to tag her back in...

But Pearl couldn’t move. That voice--! It couldn’t be. It had to be a stray strand of guilt or that her surroundings had reminded her of Amethyst, prompting her to imagine her--

“Pearl!” Pearl heard it again and was sure.

“Amethyst?!” she blurted, ignoring the referee slapping the ground by her face. Her eyes darted around the space, looking for Amethyst.

“Oh fuck, it really is you!” Amethyst sprang into view and clambered over Carnelian’s shoulders, where Carnelian stood next to the ring. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Language,” Pearl chastised, as if she wasn’t face down on the floor.

“Well, at least you sound like yourself. But the other stuff doesn’t add up cuz your clothes are a mess and you’re uh HERE of all places. Did you get amnesia? Is that why you up and disappeared?”

Pearl picked herself off the ground, released from Skinny’s chokehold. Pearl wished that Amethyst’s theory was correct, because as she gathered herself and got over the initial surprise of Amethyst’s presence, she was sharply reminded of the guilt she felt.

“Who’s this?” Jasper asked.

“Amethyst,” Pearl said.

“I got that.”

“She’s my...” Pearl sighed. “Family.”

Amethyst knitted her brows, looking Jasper up and down. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Jasper.” As Jasper extended her hand, Amethyst looked between them, her face twisting in disbelief.

“Fuck...” Amethyst hissed. “I just can’t fucking believe you Pearl.”

Pearl stiffened, fearing the worst she had imagined, knowing Amethyst too well.

“What did you-- Rose DIED and you fucked off and just been fucking someone this whole time?! When we’ve been losing sleep worrying about you?!” she shouted.

Pearl didn’t argue. She knew she had done wrong, but although she had imagined what her friends would think, nothing would have ever prepared her for the confrontation.

Amethyst gritted her teeth, staring at Pearl as she backed away and then ran off.

And Pearl let her. She had begun to run in the opposite direction when Jasper stopped her.

“Pearl.” 

Pearl swallowed a sob and winced as Jasper gripped her by the shoulders. “Let me go,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Only if you go after her.”

Pearl shook her head. “I can’t...”

“Pearl.” Jasper bent down and pressed her forehead against Pearl’s, forcing her to see eye to eye. “You can’t keep running away.”

“Why not?” Pearl said petulantly. “I’ve been doing it well so far.”

“And look where it’s got you. You can’t even look your family in the eye. I saw the way you were with her.”

“What way?”

“You wanted to go back-- but you were afraid. Like you didn’t deserve her.”

“I don’t!” Pearl wailed.

“Pearl… Pearl… look at me. I’m happy you accepted my help but this is the most I can do. The rest, you gotta do with your family. And they need you just as much as you need them. Trust me, you don’t want to take it for granted, all that time you have now.”

Pearl sniffled.

“There’s plenty of time you wish you hadn't wasted arguing with Rose, right? I’m assuming she wasn’t as perfect as you say she was.”

Pearl nodded slightly. 

“Don’t make the same mistakes with your family that you did with Rose,” Jasper said, and like that, Pearl’s resolve clicked into place.

X

Amethyst was way ahead of her, but Pearl raced down the halls with Jasper’s phone, frantically dialing Amethyst's number.

It rang and rang with no answer, but, Pearl caught the infomercial jingle that Amethyst had used as a ringtone for years and followed the sound.

Amethyst’s eyes widened, confronted with Pearl in the darkened parking lot, her back pressed to a dumpster. 

There were tears in her eyes and her face was as ruddy and red as Pearl’s. She sniffed sharply.

“Go away!” she shouted and ran again. 

“Amethyst! Amethyst, wait--!”

She turned a corner. Pearl chased after her-- then tripped on an abandoned beer bottle. Suddenly, her feet were off the ground and she was on her back, staring up at the streetlamps and the dark, star-speckled sky.

And then Amethyst was staring straight down at her from above. Pearl’s yelp had drawn her back.

“You okay, P?”

Pearl started to roll to her side but stopped, shuddering as a sharp pain spread across her body in two opposite directions.

“...I think I broke my hip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week is the final chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the final chapter. Admittedly, this was the hardest multi-chaptered fic I’ve written.

“It’s a fracture,” the nurse said and he advised her to stay in bed. As he left the room, Garnet entered. Pearl had thought Amethyst would be her first visitor. Garnet explained that Amethyst left to buy snacks from the vending machine.

“I can’t eat or drink anything,” Pearl said. “I have surgery in the morning.”

Garnet picked up a chair and set it next to Pearl. She sat down and was quiet. Too quiet even for Pearl.

“I’m sorry,” Pearl said.

“I’m not surprised by what you did,” Garnet said.

“You knew I’d run?”

Garnet’s lips tightened. “That doesn’t matter. We were worried about you.”

“Right after Rose died I… I had to be alone. And by the time I was ready… well it had already been weeks.”

“None of us were ready for it,” Garnet sighed.

“I tried to go to the funeral. But the obituary had the wrong date.”

Garnet sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

“Then what do you want to hear? I– It wasn’t supposed to be this way! If Rose hadn’t met Greg, if she hadn’t been pregnant, then…” Tearing up, she placed her face in her trembling hands. Garnet did not stir to comfort her. They sat in awkward silence as Pearl sobbed.

Finally, Garnet said, “Rose made her decisions. You made yours.”

“I’m sorry! I said I’m sorry!”

“Hey! I’m back from the– Oh.” Amethyst entered, arms full of junk food, and then just as quickly, left.

“It was hard without you, Pearl. Amethyst and Greg had me and each other, but I didn’t have you. I know I always look like I have it together, but it’s because of you. Without you, I didn’t have anyone to talk to. Not about how I felt.”

“I’m here now. And I’m not going to be able to run off this time,” Pearl said, trying for a bit of humor, pointing at her hip.

After a pause, Garnet told her everything. In hindsight, Pearl suspected that Garnet didn’t reprimand her as much as she would have on account of her injury.

X

Her surgery was the first one that morning. Talking to Garnet and then to Amethyst had been like a healing balm. She hadn’t slept that well in months, had in fact resisted sleeping, knowing she’d be knocked out first thing in the morning. But her lids had grown heavy as the night progressed. Waiting for surgery, she sat restlessly in the paper-thin gown and avoided moving too much.

They asked her to count, but she only got to one before everything went black. When she woke it was three hours later and she was exhausted, her throat sore, her repaired hip aching.

In the chair next to her was Greg, holding something close to his chest, dozing softly.

Out of everyone Pearl had wanted a visit from after surgery, Greg was not one of them. She stiffened and closed her eyes, hoping that if she pretended to sleep long enough, he would go away.

But the bundle in his arms moved and that caught her attention. Slowly, she leaned over to see what it was. She held back a whimper, and another, as she reached for the baby in Greg’s arms.

Greg stirred, but he didn’t wake as she took the child. Pearl held the baby close to her, smiling. She wondered what the baby’s name was, but didn’t dwell on that, happy to have them in her arms. The baby was unmistakably Rose’s. They had her cheeks and wild curls that twined around Pearl’s fingers. The baby feebly caught Pearl’s fingertip as she brushed their hair.

“His name is Steven,” Greg said, voice scratchy as he woke.

“He looks just like her,” Pearl said, surprised that there wasn’t a shred of envy in her voice.

“He really seems to like you.” Greg reached below the chair and rummaged through a pink diaper bag, pulling out a bottle of formula. “It’s almost his feeding time. I’m going to go warm this up.”

He came back five minutes later and handed the bottle to Pearl. Pearl graciously accepted it. She hardly noticed Greg was there, both of their attention on Steven, who looked cute whether he did anything or not.

Steven fell asleep sucking on the bottle and Pearl remembered that Greg was there when he took the half-empty bottle, tucking it back in the diaper bag.

“Thank you for bringing him,” Pearl said, because it was uncomfortable watching Greg awkwardly fuss in the chair next to her, and because like him, she wanted to talk about Rose and their mistakes.

“All that fighting,” Pearl said. “My pettiness… I wish I knew then what was important.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Greg replied.

Pearl had expected he would forgive her (easier than Garnet and Amethyst had), but she wasn’t satisfied with just that. “It felt right to apologize.”

“No, it’s my fault too. I knew you two had a thing but I got involved anyway, even when I knew it made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not mad at you– anymore.” It felt right to make that clear too.

“You’re not?”

“I’m not.” Pearl was confident in that.

Steven stirred and parted his lips slightly to yawn. He looked absolutely perfect. He looked worth all the pain and troubles she had endured. He made her struggles seem small, meaningless. He was so small, but she felt like she was holding her entire world.

Children had never appealed to Pearl like they had to Rose, but holding Steven, she finally understood. She could no longer fault Rose’s decision. She could still wish things had turned out differently, that Rose could have lived to see her son, but Pearl no longer wished she had never had him so she could live.

“How’s your hip?” Greg asked.

She told him it still hurt, but the thought of moving no longer paralyzed her. Then she mentioned that her throat was dry and he fetched a cup of water for her. He lingered for awhile after that, neither of them speaking, only admiring Steven, until a hard knock rattled the door and Jasper poked her head in.

Greg excused himself. He asked if he should take Steven with him but Pearl didn’t want to wake him. She was surprised Jasper’s knock hadn’t and added ‘heavy sleeper’ to the list of similarities to his mother.

“How ya feeling?” Jasper asked, taking Greg’s spot. Her eyes widened over Steven.

“His name is Steven, and I’m okay. Just a little sore and tired. How did you know I was in the hospital?” She didn’t remember seeing Jasper after the fall, and hadn’t had time to contact her afterwards.

“I found my phone where you fell and called the last number you called.”

“I’m surprised Amethyst answered.”

Jasper laughed. “She hung up on me the first two times. But I don’t give up.”

Pearl grinned, thinking of when she had first met her. “You really don’t.”

Now she noticed the bulging plastic bag near Jasper’s feet. Jasper followed her gaze and picked the bag off the floor. She looked hesitant, pained. Longing, she looked at Pearl with longing ,and Pearl realized that Jasper hadn’t greeted her with a kiss or a touch. Their time in the cabin had unintentionally fostered those habits.

“What’s in the bag?” Pearl asked.

“Your things,” Jasper replied hoarsely and Pearl felt her heart sink. Her hold on Steven loosened reflexively but she caught herself before she forgot him completely. She pulled him tighter to her chest and looked at Jasper in disbelief.

“I almost forgot.” Jasper stood up and searched her coat pockets. Her smile was melancholy as she pulled out a black box tied with a silver bow. “Your birthday present.”

“Jasper, my birthday was months ago.”

“Didn’t feel feel like the right time to give you this.”

“And now it is?”

Jasper swallowed, throat bobbing as she extended the pause. “I’m not sure if we’ll see each other again.”

Pearl accepted the gift and opened it one-handed. “Of course we will,” she said.

“But you have your family now.”

Nestled on a tiny satin cushion was a designer wrist watch.

“So you could tell the time, since you dropped your phone.”

Pearl slipped it on and Jasper helped fasten it. Pearl admired it under the light. “I lost Rose. Are you going to make me lose you too?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Goodness, no! Although, we may have to lessen our physical relationship…”

Jasper glanced at Pearl’s hip, seeming to understand, but Pearl shook her head.

“I want to be sure what we had wasn’t just a compulsion to fill a void.”

Jasper couldn’t argue against that reasoning, although she still scooted her chair closer, chasing after Pearl’s warmth once it was clarified that Pearl wasn’t going to kick her out.

Regardless, Pearl readily accepted the closeness. A sturdy, comforting hand on the shoulder could be platonic, as was the case.

“Even if it doesn’t work out,” Pearl added, leaning against Jasper. “You’re family to me. You were there for me the whole time, especially at my worst.”

“You’re not required to keep me around,” Jasper said. Pearl could tell she didn’t want her pity. She reassured her it was gratitude.

Jasper said, “We’ll see.”

“Does the uncertainty scare you?” Pearl asked, flicking her eyes upward. There was a playful smirk on her lips. “I don’t mind it.”

“Of course I mind it,” Jasper admitted. “And why are you smiling? What the hell are you thinking about?”

“Just you.” Her words, light and sanguine, stilled Jasper. “How you told me the other night not to take for granted the time I have now with the ones I love. And now you’re so certain to give up when we’ve only just started. That’s not like you to just quit.”

Jasper exhaled, a cross between a laugh and a sigh. “Well, if you’re up for it.”

“I know I am.”

And they watched Steven sleep, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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